


Coming home

by TRossWrites



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos kinda has trouble adjusting, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I hope it's sad at least, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot, Sad, because i wanted it to be sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 09:31:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4095892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TRossWrites/pseuds/TRossWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Carlos came home from the desert otherworld, he expected things to be the same with Cecil.</p>
<p>So much can change in one year</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming home

The midmorning sun streamed through the window of Carlos and Cecil’s apartment, bathing the couple in a soft golden light. Carlos woke up first, panicking for a split second and tensing at the feel of the smaller man’s arms wrapped around his torso, but as his mind cleared he relaxed with a sigh. Slowly, Carlos worked at untangling Cecil’s gangly limbs from himself and after a minute or two extracted himself from the bear hug. He sat on the edge of their bed, wiping a hand across his face and breathing deeply.

It’s not that Carlos didn’t love Cecil, or that he didn’t want to be held, but so much can change in one year.

Carlos thought back to the year he’d spent in the desert otherworld, assisting the masked army and having time for nothing but science. He’d hated being away from Cecil, of course, but it had been pleasant, at times. Sometimes he thought about not going back home. The scientist shook himself to attention, he was home now, with Cecil. That was what mattered. What was important. He’d hated being alone, but still, now that he was here, sitting three feet away from the only one he’d ever wanted, Carlos felt nothing but discomfort.

_So much_ can change in one year.

He looked around the bedroom they shared, taking into account every inconsistency with his last memory of it. The desk had been moved, the walls had been repainted, it even _smelled_ differently than he remembered. Yesterday, when Carlos had first come home, he’d been exhausted, too weak to try and stop Cecil from taking care of him, feeding him soup and easing him into a bath. As his head cleared now in the warmth of the desert morning, he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of embarrassment. Carlos had no need to feel the way he did, it’s not like this wasn’t anything they were used to, Cecil had helped him when he was tired, they’d woken up together, and he’d certainly done more than _hugged_ the radio host, but something felt off.

Carlos was brought out of his thoughts from the soft sounds coming from behind him, he turned to see Cecil, curled on his side and still reaching across the empty space Carlos had just left behind. Even in sleep, Carlos could see the obvious distress on his face as he groped blindly, trying to grab onto the body that was no longer next to him. The broadcaster’s lips were fluttering, breathing out soft whimpers as his searches proved fruitless. Carlos felt an ache in his heart, a twist in his gut that told him to go, to hold and comfort his boyfriend. He felt something else, though. A cold corner of his mind that spread out chills in tendrils, that told him it wasn’t his boyfriend at all. That he sat on a stranger’s bed and _shouldn’t I be leaving now?_

The thought surprised Carlos, but he pushed it. _Really, how do I expect to carry this relationship again?_ He reached his hands up, running them roughly through his own curls. So much can change in a year and _how well do I even know him anymore?_

He shook off the thought, turning back and moving closer to Cecil, “Honey? Ceec, don’t worry. I’m here. I’m here and you’re okay.” Carlos reached out, taking one of the grasping hands in his own, rubbing the knuckles with his thumb.

Typically, during a nightmare, Carlos would wrap the smaller man up in his embrace, press soft kisses to his temple and mumble whatever came to his mind until it passed, but Carlos couldn’t bring himself to do anything more than the limited contact he now initiated. He watched, numb of emotion as Cecil eventually worked himself into waking, tears now threatening at the corner of his eye. Carlos hated the sinking feeling he got, but watched, silently as his boyfriend awoke completely, and drew away his hand.

“Carlos? Oh, good morning, Carlos.” The radio host blinked, then frowned, wiping one cheek and staring at his fingers after, “Am I… have I been crying?” He looked puzzled a moment more before blushing, “Oh, gods. I had a nightmare…” Cecil’s eyes were pleading when he looked up again at Carlos, “Why are you so far away?” His voice was quiet and hurt and Carlos had to look away.

“Cecil, do you feel almost like…” He made no move to close the distance between them, despite Cecil inching closer, “It’s been a year. I’ve been away from you longer than we even had together. It’s like we’re-” Carlos’ throat was being crushed, less air coming through with each breath and he swallowed thickly, “Like we’re strangers again.”

The air was heavy, Cecil blinked twice, three times and shook his head, his forehead wrinkled, “No. No, Carlos. I have no idea what you mean. I- I love you. I mean, sure it’s been a while, but this is…” He shook his head again, wetting his lips, “Nothing’s changed. We’re together, we’re in love, that’s what matters.” He began moving across the bed, grabbing Carlos by one hand.

Carlos pulled away, frowning and shaking his head, “No, Cecil. I’m sorry, I just don’t feel comfortable.” _Oh, God. What am I saying?_ Every word was true, though. He couldn't deny them.

“I know, you might feel awkward, but Carlos, sweetie, we just need to pick this back up, get back to where we were--” Cecil looked scared, almost desperate in his haste to make things right.

“Cecil, I don’t know whether that’s the right way to go about this.” It touched him, honestly, that his boyfriend (boyfriend? Was he even that anymore?) cared so much. “I think we need to take a few steps back.” Carlos was moving slowly away, off of the bed now and to his feet, “I think, Ceec I think I need to spend a day at the lab, okay?”

“You got back _last night._ Spend a day home.”

“I need a day to think.” Cecil’s eyes were still wide with fear, and Carlos knew it should have hurt more, that he should wrap him up in his arms and whisper that it was going to be okay.

Because it was going to be okay, wasn’t it?

It wasn’t solved with the day in the lab. Or the week he spent sleeping on the thin cot they kept there. He didn’t feel better after their tentative dates or stilted phone conversations.

He didn’t feel better after the month he avoided Cecil.

Carlos wasn’t okay, it was tearing him apart and he refused to admit it. The familiarity he used to feel around Cecil completely gone, replaced by a dull ache. If you can fall in love instantly, how long does it take to become strangers?

So much can change in one year.

**Author's Note:**

> Why did I even write this?


End file.
